Reminiscence
by TheHopelessRomantic3
Summary: A one-shot starring Crystal and Gold! Poor Crystal just can't seem to concentrate all morning no matter what she does. She doesn't want to believe that a certain golden-eyed boy has anything to do with it. Well, too bad for her, since she knows she loves him. (Mangaquest)


**Reminiscence**

* * *

When Crystal woke up that morning, she had never felt so tired. She hadn't gotten any sleep last night, which was incredibly unusual. Normally, she would always go to bed at the same time every night, and wake up at the same time every morning. That was what helped in keeping her mental schedule in check. Yet, when she went under the warm, plush sheets, she didn't know if her routine had become too mechanical for her to fall asleep, or if a certain amber-eyed teen had anything to do with it…

She shook her head out of sudden annoyance and grogginess. _That reckless and irrational imbecile is just too exhausting._ Her proper side chimed in her head. She let out a weary yawn while swinging her legs off the side of the bed. She stood on strong legs and performed an upper body stretch, her pajamas scrunching as well. She softly sighed before sauntering her way over to her bathroom. When she entered through the door frame, her cerulean gaze flickered to the mirror. She stared at her complexion in the mirror and huffed. She was able to notice the dark bags under her eyes- proof of her sleepless night.

She was almost never this fatigued when she started her morning routine. Why now of all times had she felt so overworked? Her face immediately turned sour with sarcasm at the thought of ever being overworked. Work was practically her life. Working was one of the things she enjoyed. She adored things that were organized, proper, neat, and professional- which was the perfect description of Crystal. She treasured her work, loving the feeling of that air of professionalism. That was why she loved helping Professor Oak- she enjoyed long, hard work. So, why was she so drowsy?

Her right hand daintily gripped her toothbrush. She glanced at the bristles and huffed again. She hastily squirted toothpaste on the bristles and began mechanically brushing her teeth. _It's just your normal morning routine, get ahold of yourself._ She mentally scolded her stunned mind. She finished brushing her teeth and spat out the minty mixture in her mouth. Crystal refocused her gaze back to the mirror before sighing yet again, the image in the mirror acting as a copycat.

She grabbed ahold of the drawer she was incredibly acquainted with; it was the drawer that was full of the hair ties she used for her pigtails. She opened it without a second thought and grabbed the first two ties she touched. She went to put them in her hair, but a dash of color caught her attention. Curiously, her vision wandered to the ties, and she gasped. She threw them on the floor, completely startled. The color of the hair ties she normally used were red, but _these_- these were practically the color of _his_ eyes. Due to her sudden reaction she had begun to breathe slightly heavier at the realization of the color as her cheeks flushed.

What was _wrong_ with her? She was never the type of person to act so timid. She began to blame that stupid boy for her troubles and let out her frustration by furiously kicking away the ties into the corner of the bathroom. She then released her rage on the bathroom door, kicking that as well. She ended up kicking it so hard a dent had become visible. This made her stop once she heard the splintering of the wood. She groaned and buried her face in her hands; she realizes now that she had practically thrown a childish _tantrum_. Yet, she _still_ blamed the boy with golden eyes. Oh, yes- _he_ was the one who affected her so much to the point of doing something so embarrassing as to throw a fit.

Yes, this was _definitely_ his fault.

Crystal growled in frustration. He was messing with her mind and he wasn't even here. She cursed the day the boy was born, then cautiously picked out her regular red ones from the drawer. Normally, she never felt the need to look, but now she was handling everything with such precision that anyone else would think she was _disarming a bomb_ and not _sorting through hair ties_. The mere thought of him affecting her now made her growl ever more ferocious.

"No more, Crystal. No more," she harshly whispered to herself. She sucked in a deep breath and tied her hair into her own pigtails that bent against the laws of gravity.

_I wonder if these pigtails defy our gravitation…_

She halted mid-tie on her left pigtail. First her sleep, then her hair ties, and now this? Crystal knew that boy gave her serious issues, but… that was extremely unlike her. What on Earth was wrong with her? Why was he consuming her thoughts? Why had she wanted to stop their… erm… _gravitation_? All of these questions caused the blue haired girl to blush profusely. Her face turned into a vigorous shade of red, and the worst part was that it wouldn't leave her cheeks.

She had the strong urge to smack herself across the face. She was never like this in her entire life. All of these questions, the thoughts, the blushes… she didn't know what they meant. She didn't want to find out either. However, something stirred inside her whenever that happened. The best way she could describe it was that the cavity of her chest swelled and hummed in glee. Something about it gave her pleasurable, nervous shivers.

But, due to her rather serious and impenetrable nature, she shoved the sensation deep, down inside her. She wasn't going to let something as silly and immature as this affect her. So, she ignored her obvious frustration, put on her mature mask, and finished getting ready. After all, she had a job to get to.

* * *

It had happened- again.

Her trembling hands shakily held her mug, even while she had set it on her work desk. She glared daggers at the mug's contents- pitch black coffee. She scowled at it with great intensity and felt incapable of returning to her work. She just pierced the dark liquid with her menacing eyes, as if it were a person and not coffee.

A particular person, to be exact.

Despite her piercing cerulean eyes, her lips quivered at the thought. Once again, the problematic reoccurring event of being unable to function with him on her mind was beating down on her. He was agitating her with every fiber of his being, and he wasn't even around her at all!

She officially hated that dang Professor Oak right now. He just had to offer her a cup of coffee, seeing as she was so drowsy, and she had accepted. However, she thought he would've known better than to give it to her black. It wasn't that the taste was bitter that she 'hated' him for; it was that the color reminded her a bit too much of _his_ hair. Boy did she know that his hair was a dark, raven black, always in that extremely spiky and messy look, which she loathed to admit she liked.

She cursed that stupid mug of coffee as well as the boy himself.

She hadn't realized that the intensity of her glare had increased. She really wished that black coffee didn't exist at this point. The more she glared, the more her hands itched to put some sort of cream or sugar in it, just so that the color would change. Just anything, really, because then she would look at the coffee and see nothing else but coffee. Is was truly a shame that he had etched himself into the front of her mind to the extent where even adding in anything to her black coffee would still not erase the thoughts of his untamable, ebony locks.

Oh, but how she loved them so. Just thinking about his various traits mesmerized her. She would always remember those times when she found herself staring at his disheveled hair and the way that it perfectly protruded from his cap. The deep raven color was the perfect complement to his namesake eyes. His bright irises were so relevant to the metal itself that she swore she could see flecks of it in his eyes. It was those specific pairs of irises that never failed to hypnotize her.

Although she would never admit it, she was drawn to him like a Venomoth to a flame. The boy was such womanizer, that nearly every time he saw her she could smell various scents permeating the air around him- which wasn't any kind of his cheap cologne, but, in fact, women's perfume. The fragrances were a constant reminder to her that she would never be able to become closer to him. As sad at it was, she couldn't help herself. That stupid lady-lover just had that charm that always seemed to break down her defenses, yet it seems he didn't ever realize it. As much as she would admit already, her stiffness and seriousness would always make her omit one certain detail about him.

True, she would admit her attraction to his qualities, but never about the boy himself.

Crystal eventually stopped her emotional war against the mug of coffee. She unwarily stiffened before forcing her muscles to relax. Unrequited feelings- or at least what she thought were unrequited feelings- began to be such a burden on her well being. Those fleeting moments where she struggled to control herself earlier this morning were just proof of that. Her pain added on to her humorless demeanor when she released her grasp on the cup.

She had never felt so disheartened to know that her feelings might never be returned. After all, in the real world, people didn't really go for the ordeal of 'opposites attract.' People go for who suits them and understands them. So, why would the slightly arrogant, immature, womanizing, optimistic, Gold ever want the uptight, secluded, mature, realistic Crystal?

However, it was that sliver of hope that kept her alive. There were always those moments when she would see Gold as the one who complements her. He made her see things in a different light. Sometimes, the boy would even manage to change her perspective in a few measly ways. She tried not to work herself up over the fact that she might possibly do the same thing to him. Maybe it wasn't the fact if they wanted each other, necessarily, but that they _needed_ each other.

The thought of her always hoping for something as precious as a relationship was what made the corners of her lips twitch upwards. So, maybe everyone else thought they were the imperfect match for the other. Though, Crystal didn't care. To her, imperfect was perfect. It was that thin strand of hope she had that led her to believe that he thought so himself.

She hoped that he would never fail to melt her serious and cold exterior to reveal the caring and wistful girl that she kept locked away.

So, she didn't know whether she ended up liking black coffee so much that she smiled wider, or the fact that a certain someone slammed the laboratory doors open, while exclaiming, "Hey! Super Serious Gal!"

* * *

**A/N**: Ta-da! My first Mangaquest piece! I just love this couple- I mean, come on, it's kinda my favorite Pokespe couple, so I just had to write this.

Heehee, Crystal has an emotional war against coffee… so sorry, Professor Oak, but I don't think Crys likes you anymore.

Anyway, I hope I can continue writing some more Pokemon Special stuff like this. The problem is a story I have going on in the Sonic universe. Well, it's not exactly a problem, but I sincerely hope you get my drift.

Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
